You're not from around here, are you?

Every big city, every place, really, has them. Rules. Particularly for public transportation. Certain people give up their seats. Stand to the right on the escalator. When the train is packed, the people near the door step off so others can get out from the center of the car.

And above all else, do not make eye contact or speak to strangers.

It was a normal morning commute to work. I got on the train, transferred to the red line at Metro Center. When I stepped in to the car - the one I had strategically chosen so as to be let off closest to the escalator at my destination - I settled myself against a wall and was about to plug in to my iPod when he broke the rule.

Out of the blue, the man sitting in a seat on the other side of the aisle says to me, "Aren't you cold?"

Granted, I was wearing a 3/4-length-sleeved top and it is winter. So at face value I suppose he could be forgiven for assuming he had recognized a kindred crazy spirit in me.

No, asking me if I'm cold does not a crazy man make. But proceeding to get into a whole conversation about post-traumatic stress disorder, over-medication, and the body-is-a-temple philosophy while he had me as a captive audience for the 3-minute ride from Metro Center to Dupont is... well... a little crazy.



And more than a little amusing. If for no other reason than getting to watch other passengers squirm in discomfort at having the status quo of morning commutes disrupted.

I hope he keeps breaking the rules.